


never let go

by starknaked



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - War, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starknaked/pseuds/starknaked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the world is ending and zayn can't help but be thankful that he spent the last moments of his life with his boys while they lay under the starts hoping for a better world</p>
            </blockquote>





	never let go

It was a time when the sound of gun shots was enough to cause a deafening silence. The thick, grey smoke that filled the air tainted everyone’s lungs black as tar, the bombs dropped from the sky as if they came from the rainclouds, and the valiant soldiers that now lay dead on the cold ground covered the grass. Innocent blood flooded the earth. 

It was a time where the safest place on earth was under it; beneath the sand bags and barbed wire, beneath the death and loss and safe from the guns and bombs that became a part of everyone’s everyday lives. 

Zayn looked up to the sky and missed the time when the sky was the color of sweet, blue icing and the clouds were tufts of whipped cream. The sky was now the color of rotten bones buried under the earth dotted with vile, greenish clouds that often broke apart to make way for another bomb. 

Zayn had just been recruited into the army with his father. It was the first time in their country’s history that it had been sought necessary to require two men from every household to participate in the war to defend their country. At age eighteen, Zayn packed his bags and kissed his mother and sisters goodbye. And on his nineteenth birthday, he received a crumpled, intercepted letter from his mother and an assault rifle from his father. 

It didn't take too long for Zayn to conclude that he hated the war. He hated the killing and the blood and the fact that every time he and his father separate to follow their respective troupes might be the last time they see each other. He hated that he might never get to see his sisters grow up or help his mother with the chores or milk the cow and dust the rug. He missed the little things the most. 

A few months into recruitment, Zayn’s friends Louis and Liam got recruited and he felt torn between wanting to be happy because a little bit of home is with him while camping out in the barracks and wanting to feel remorse because his two best friends now share the same slanted faith as him. He decided he was only happy when the two boys (men, no one who experienced war can really contain the same innocence like that a boy holds) and himself were not on duty and didn’t have to kill every soldier wearing the enemy’s colors. It would be just like the old times. Louis would challenge Liam to a football match (Louis would usually win despite Liam’s buff physique molded with pure muscle over Louis' slender but toned limbs and petite built) while Zayn would hunch over a book and peer over the pages to occasionally laugh and jeer with them. Louis was not very big and all sharp edges with his pointy elbows and sharp cheekbones and jaw line littered with scruff and swept hair. Liam on the other hand was the perfect real-life Superman, he had a soft, kind face with equally soft facial hair, an outgrown buzz cut, and his heart on his sleeve and crinkles on his eyes when he smiled. Zayn was thinner but the effects of war had given him toned muscles. He had his black hair in a quiff (the armies were so desperate for new recruits that they didn't insist the required haircut anymore) and the remnants of a bear on his sculpted jaw. 

“Hey, Zee,” Zayn looked up to see Liam making his way to him with Louis in tow. Nobody in their troupe called him ‘Malik’ because it might cause confusion since his father, Sergeant Yaser Malik, was the head of their troupe. 

“Liam, Louis,” he gave a sharp nod to both of them. Just seeing his two friends returning from their latest mission uncoiled a tight rope at the bottom of his stomach. He hated it when they had separate missions, he had to stay at base and wait for at least one of them to get back safe and sound. 

“We’re fine, Zayn,” Liam rolled his eyes. Louis laughed and supplied, “Still got all of our toes, mind you.”

‘we’re all going to die on a warm bed surrounded by fifty grand kids laughing and safe’. That promise is the only thing keeping Zayn alive and sane at this point. 

“We have news.” Louis suddenly turned serious and Zayn’s jaw clenched. _News_ was never a good thing. It either meant someone died or someone was going to be sent to enemy territory to spy on them. So Adam prepared himself for the worst and swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“They're lowering the age of recruitment.” 

*** 

It’s not like Zayn has anything against kids and their ability to defend the country but he got angry at the Heads’ for stooping so low as to lower the age limit for soldiers. Now there were men as young as sixteen joining the army. 

The first thing Zayn felt when the kids to be added to their troupe entered and settled in was fear. Fear for them that they may get hurt and lose the life they deserved. That fear was directed _towards_ the kids when he met Niall and Harry. They were tough and brave and knew how to defend themselves well. That fear doubled when he had the chance to go on a mission with them along with Louis and Liam. Nearly chewed their heads off, they did. 

Niall was the American Dream (even though he's from Mullingar). Sort of like an Irish version of Captain America with his blonde hair and blue eyes and the ability to kill ten men with a half-loaded rifle and a knife and a smile like pure sunshine. Harry was full of wit with his soft brown curls and cunning green eyes, coupled with a charming smile and dimples. 

The five of them developed a homey friendship that reminded Zayn of spending afternoons in the school’s football field while watching the clouds and listening to Harry’s music (he had a taste for indie music which the rest of them scoff at but secretly love). 

*** 

Zayn loves the rain. He loves the soft pitter patter of water against the tarp of their large tents. He also loves the rain because they’re permitted to share tents with the new recruits. Times were hard and there was a scarcity of tents and sleeping bags so the males slept under sheets held up by branches on the grass. He, Liam, Louis, Harry, and Niall get to forgot the war and huddle up in one tent and pretend they’re just a couple of troubled youths camping under the stars. He’s never felt anything towards any of them other than platonic, something along the lines of _brotherhood_ , and _family_ ; which is why it hurts him more to think about them getting hurt. Every time they leave something punctures a hole in his chest that fills slowly as he’s made sure that each and every one of them are safe to live another day. 

They usually don’t sleep when given the chance to camp together. They stay up and talk about what they wanted to do if they weren’t risking their lives every day, if the war didn’t exist. 

“I want to play footie professionally,” Louis says, tossing the worn football between his hands while the five of them lay with their heads bumping together in the middle of the tent, legs fanned out in a circle forming a fan. “Like, meet David Beckham and have the crowd cheer me on, y’know?”

“We’d be in every single one of your games,” Harry slapped his shoulder laughed. It wasn’t a mocking type of laugh, it was light and airy and full of sincerity. Zayn felt a lump balling up in his throat.

“I’d like to open up a restaurant or a bakery,” Niall said, Zayn can’t see his face but he can tell he’s smiling. “Nothing flashy or anything, just a simple establishment with home-cooked meals that you could smell from across the block, that’d be perfect.” 

“Stop it, Niall; you’re making my mouth water.” Liam laughs. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in three years.” Another thing Zayn hated about the new world order, army troupes didn’t have the luxury of going home to their families every six months. 

“I wanted to study law.” Harry says, slow and sad. “My father was a lawyer and I kind of liked the way he came home late every night knowing he helped defend some poor, accused citizen.” Everyone hummed in agreement. No words were needed for them to understand each other’s feelings. 

“I probably would’ve ended up with a job that involved saving people, doing something for the greater good, know what I mean?” Liam said quietly. Zayn sighed. It wasn’t an exasperated sigh but more of an awed sigh. Liam’s heart was made of gold and it was just in his nature to want to do the right thing and be the hero and save everyone even if it meant getting himself hurt. 

“You mean you’d be doing what you are right now?” Louis teased lightly. Louis always liked to tease the rest of them but they kind of need Louis' lightness to keep things from being too thick and depressing. 

“No, you donut,” Liam scoffed but he was still smiling. “I wanted to be a fireman. There’s no killing and I can actually _save_ people, not put blood in their hands when I kill the enemy at their expense. I was already up for training when the officers came to the house and recruited me. Plus, I don’t risk my life everyday when I’m a fireman. I just have to _not_ get flattened by a burning ceiling or something.”

They all laughed; the sound visible within the confines of their shelter. There wasn’t much room so they were close but still not close enough.

“How ‘bout you, Zee?”, Louis got up on his elbows to look at him. “What’d you want to be?” 

Zayn blinked. He never really thought about what he wanted to be. Since his father was the sergeant he grew up to a life of too much _good byes_ and not enough _hellos_. He tried to think of something that made him happy and made him feel infinite. Because that’s what this is all about, right? They all aspired to do things that would make them feel infinite because in reality their lives had an expiration date. They don’t know whose candle will go out first but they know that the rest will follow sooner or later. Just the thought of it made Zayn’s heart sink. 

“I think I’d like to write,” he says carefully, “I don’t know, I mean, I like writing. I like making up a world for others as well as for myself where everybody gets a happy ending even if it lives in a book. I’d like to help them forget about their troubles and stuff even for just a short outlived moment.”

Zayn looked up to see everyone staring at him, Louis and Liam had sad but bright grins and Harry and Niall were tearing up a bit. He guesses that’s what everyone needs right now, an escape and a hope for a better world; because right now the world is broken and in pieces. All they have is hope. 

All they can do is hope that the world will get better even if it means that they won’t get to see it together again; because that night, a stray bomb dropped from the clouds to their location. Death came by their camp and snagged all the souls lying on the lifeless vessels. One by one he took them with him and away from the earth. And when Death got their tent, their souls sat up and had one last laugh before Death swooped them up together; their bodies a tangled mess of limbs hugging each other and bonded for eternity.

Zayn never fulfilled his promise to Louis and Liam to live to an old age but he did fulfill an unspoken promise along with Harry and Niall; a promise, that whatever happens, they will never let go. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you. this was my project-thing and my partner came up with like, 70% of the prompt even though he has no idea to what a prompt is (ugh, boys). anyway, this was more of a one shot-turn-project than a project-turn-one shot because i envisioned adam as zayn and the other characters as the boys from the start so its not exactly recycled. thanks again. xxxxx


End file.
